


Give Me Those Eyes (It's Easy to Forgive)

by societybabylon



Category: The Society (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, post-season one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-13 03:26:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19242856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/societybabylon/pseuds/societybabylon
Summary: “You know, I always noticed you in high school. I just never thought you wanted to talk to me. I was convinced you hated me.”“Why would you think that?” When he didn’t respond, she immediately pieced together the answer. "Because of Cassandra? You thought I wouldn’t like you because you guys hated each other? I’m not my sister.”“I know that. But things were different back then."After Harry is imprisoned, he and Allie try to start anew. (Post-season one.)





	Give Me Those Eyes (It's Easy to Forgive)

“What do you think will happen when we go back?” Harry asked.

Allie looked over him slowly. He was hunched over a bowl of instant noodles, devouring his dinner with a plastic fork at a cartoonishly fast rate. She suppressed a laugh. “I think I’ll never eat another thing of cup noodles in my life. Only homemade noodles from then on.”

She nibbled on her own noodles, savoring the salty warmth of the broth as it hit her tongue. It seemed the Guard was running out of food to feed their prisoners—this was the third day in a row that they had been fed instant ramen for dinner.

Harry shook his head. “I, for one, think my parents will gift me with a Tesla. And maybe if you’re lucky enough I’ll let you take a ride in it one day.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, Lord Harry, what an honor it would be to ride in your Tesla. How could I ever repay you?”

He chuckled at her sarcasm. “If I remember correctly, you like my fast cars. Or did you forget our game of Fugitive entirely?”

This was a typical routine for them. They would fantasize about what their lives would be like when they returned to West Ham. Ever since Harry had been arrested and joined Allie in her imprisonment, they’d spent their time coming up with different ways to entertain themselves. It was one of the only ways they stayed sane.

Allie liked imagining the future with Harry. It allowed her to temporarily forget her fears. Because at her core, she was terrified that their time was coming to an end.

Winter had come for them.

Allie knew it in her bones, even though she hadn’t been outside in over two months. She knew it from the frost that clung to the single window of the room she was imprisoned in. She knew it from the heavy coats that Jason, Luke, and Clark had started bringing with them to their Guard shifts. And because she’d been locked up for months, she had no way of knowing whether or not the town had enough supplies to live through the winter.

All she knew was that Grizz and the search party had found an empty plot of land. That was the last she’d heard before she’d been jailed. She could only hope that New Ham had made more progress since then, but that seemed like a wishful thought.

“Allie? Allie?” Harry’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “Are you listening to me?”

“Sorry.” She smiled at him. “I was busy dreaming about your imaginary Tesla.”

He laughed. “Really? I should have known.”

“Well, no. Not really. I was actually thinking about winter. And about how we got here.”

She gestured at the space between them. She could tell by the gleam in his eyes that he knew what she meant. She had never expected Harry to get thrown in prison with her, but then again, she’d never imagined that she would be jailed in the first place.

New Ham had always felt like a place pulled from her nightmares. After Cassandra’s death, she thought she had learned to prepare for the worst. But she hadn’t been prepared for the coup. And she couldn’t have ever imagined what followed it.

\---

The trial took place two weeks after the coup.

Every citizen of West Ham came to the church to watch the spectacle. Lexie and Harry, who served as co-judges, sat before the crowd like gods. Allie and Will, meanwhile, sat in the same place that Dewey had sat when he’d been on trial. The irony of the situation hadn’t been lost on Allie.

Grizz had generously volunteered to serve as Allie and Will’s defense lawyer. As their attorney, he was smart, quick-witted, and perceptive. He gave a brilliant opening statement before the court and questioned each witness thoroughly. But talented as he was, he was no match against Campbell. With every witness he called to the stand, Campbell sold lies to the people of New Ham. He guided Luke, Clark, and Jason to testify that they’d overheard Allie planning to rig the election. The angry crowd in the church believed it all, every false word that was said to them.

The trial was over before it even began. The people of New Ham were on Campbell’s side. Allie knew it. Will knew it. Even Grizz, who tried so earnestly to defend their names, knew it.

The jury’s verdict came swiftly: guilty.

The judges’ decision, however, came a little less quickly. Just as Allie had struggled to figure out how to punish Dewey, she knew that Lexie and Harry were grappling with the appropriate sentencing.

As much influence as the new mayors had, Allie knew they didn’t have the power to sentence Allie or Will to death. That would have caused an uproar. Besides, as dangerous as Lexie and Harry could be, they weren’t murderers.

Ultimately, the judges sentenced Will and her to ten years in prison.

Under Campbell’s leadership, the Guard had set up a formal jail in the old police station. The police station was an old, gray building with an interior as bland as is exterior. There was only one holding cell in the station, and because Campbell wanted to separate his two prisoners, the Guard put Will in the cell and locked her in the old police chief’s office.

The office was a small room in the back of the building, closed off from the rest of the station. It had one desk, a swivel chair, and dozens of pictures on the wall of the West Ham police chief with her kids.

When she first saw the room, Allie expected the Guard to handcuff her to the desk and leave her there, just like how they had handcuffed her to a radiator after the coup. Instead, they simply removed all the furniture from the room, so that there was nothing she could use as a weapon. Then, when the only things left were a single plastic trashcan, a few blank sheets of paper, and a raggedy blanket, they threw her in the room and locked the door.

Trapped in that room, Allie had no way to contact Will or anyone else in New Ham. The office only had one tiny, rectangular window, which was high enough off the ground that no one would be able to see into the room. For the first time since Cassandra’s death, she was truly alone.

It was difficult to adjust to the immense silence of her prison. There was always one member of the Guard stationed outside of her door, but no one ever joined her inside the lonely office. She was never given the opportunity to talk to Will or receive visits from any of her friends. At most, she was given the opportunity to speak to her captors a few times a day.

Slowly but surely, she began to fall into a routine. She was fed three small meals a day. Twice a day, once in the morning and once in the evening, the Guard escorted her to the bathroom so she could brush her teeth and use the toilet. Every other day, they would fill up a giant inflatable kiddie pool with sink water and let her bathe in it for ten minutes at a time. Every night around nine, a member of the Guard would come in and turn off the lights in her room, letting her know it was time to go to sleep.

In the long moments of silence, she was burdened by memories of Cassandra’s death and the coup. Her sister was supposed to be at Yale. Instead, she was in a grave. And she, who had done everything she could to hold New Ham together, was living a life so empty it was like walking death.

She had nothing to occupy her time, so she became a master at entertaining herself. She made up ridiculous songs and sang them in her off-key voice. She came up with ridiculous plans to depose Harry and Lexie. She dreamt and wept and prayed.

Allie was doing her best to hold on to her sanity and to stay alive. But after weeks of near-solitary confinement, she had to confront the truth: if she lived like this much longer, she would go mad.

Then, out of nowhere, everything changed.

Three weeks after the coup, Allie watched in shock as the Guard escorted Harry into her room in handcuffs. There he was, one of the men who’d orchestrated her downfall, getting his own comeuppance. Once they had secured him in the room, the Guard uncuffed him and shut him in the office to rot with her.

At first, she had been angry with him. When she saw him in those handcuffs she felt like her blood was turning to fire. She wanted her wrath to incinerate him.

“How else did you think this would end?” Allie roared at him. “He’s Campbell. You were never going to win. You were just a pawn. And now look at us. We’re trapped here, and Campbell’s in power. Do you know what this means? It means we’re never getting out of here, Harry.”

He said nothing. He stared dejectedly at the ground, eyes glazed over and haunted. The curls of his hair, usually so perfectly done, were tangled and wild. His green shirt was torn open at the front and his sneakers were splattered with mud. He was a mess.

Whatever had happened to him, Allie knew it wasn’t pleasant. 

Unsatisfied by his despondency, she tore into him again. She didn’t care if her words destroyed him. She just wanted him to say something. She wanted him to explain himself and all the pain he had caused her.

She must have spent thirty minutes relentlessly attacking him. But he said nothing. He simply curled up into a ball, tucking his knees under his head. Fetal position, she realized. He looked more like a boy than the man she knew him to be.

He didn’t stir for the rest of the day. When the Guard delivered dinner that night—his first dinner as a prisoner—he didn’t touch his food. He did not rise for the evening bathroom break. He was a ghost in a man’s body.

Allie assumed he would come to his senses by the next morning. He didn’t. If anything, he was worse than he had been the day before. Uncontrollable spasms shook his body. Though the room was air conditioned, sweat was dripping down his hair and onto his face. If she didn’t know better, she would have assumed he was going through withdrawal.

She considered offering to help him, only to soon realize that he was the reason they were in this position at all. Even if she could convince the Guard to take him to the hospital (which was already highly unlikely), he didn’t deserve her aid. So she let him suffer.

By the second day of his imprisonment, his sweating and shaking stopped. He began to adapt to the same schedule Allie was on, from the eating to the bathing to the sleeping. He seemed to slowly be accepting to his new reality. Yet when she antagonized him or attempted conversation, he still said nothing.

After four days of near complete silence, he finally broke. “I’m sorry.”

His comments only reignited her rage. “I’m in prison, and the only thing you can think to say to me is that you’re sorry?”

“I don’t know what else to say. I—”

He never finished his sentence. He broke down into aching sobs. Allie watched him fall apart, feeling only a shadow of pity pass over her.

“Pull yourself together,” she spat. “If you want to survive this, you must be stronger.”

He bit his lip and tugged at his curls. She could see the anguish painted on his face.

“I didn’t know.” He spoke as if he were divulging his sins to God. “I feel like a coward and an idiot admitting it. But I didn’t know that they had put you here. I just assumed they locked the two of you up in the wine cellar or something, like they did with Dewey. If I knew, I would have tried to stop it.”

Allie began to cut him off. “You are so full of shit, I—”

“Please,” he begged. “Listen to me. I’m going to tell you the truth about what happened with the coup. I’m going to tell you everything. It’s not a good excuse for what we did, not by any means. But please believe me when I say I never thought that things would go as far as they did.”

She said nothing. He was watching her so intently, gazing at her with broken, exhausted eyes. She could tell he was waiting for her permission to continue. She wasn’t sure she was prepared to hear what he had to say, but she couldn’t bear any more silence, so she nodded at him to continue his story.

He did as he promised. He revealed to her the entire of how the coup came to be. He told her about how Campbell had used drugs to manipulate him, confirming her earlier suspicions about withdrawal. He told her about how he, depressed and addicted, saw the mayorship as his last chance to regain a semblance of his old life.

Then, he told his own story of how he landed in prison. According to Harry, Campbell had always intended to use him and Lexie as puppets. When they resisted his plans, he manipulated Clark, who wanted the Guard to rule, into staging yet another coup. The new mayors were deposed almost as quickly as they’d taken power. Apparently, Lexie was in the prison as well, except she had been locked up with Will.

New Ham was quickly transforming into something that resembled a totalitarian police state. And they could do nothing to stop it.

Allie was silent for a long time after he finished speaking. She didn’t know what to say him. She was still violently angry at him, and she knew she would be for a long time. But she also felt a kernel of understanding inside her. For the first time, she fully comprehended why Harry had gone to such dramatic ends to oust her.

Harry sat in silence, waiting for her to say something. Finally, she gave in.

“I’m still mad at you. I won’t be able to forgive you for a long time. But maybe someday…” she trailed off. “Besides, it seems like we’re going to be stuck here for a while. Might as well make the most of it.”

He gave her a slow, sad smile. “Might as well.”

It wasn’t much, but it felt like a start.

Over the next few days, they reacquainted themselves. They last time they had hung out was before prom, and that was months ago. Harry detailed his slide into depression and what it had been like to open his house to so many classmates. Allie talked about her struggle to mourn her sister and lead their town simultaneously.

They invented all sorts of games to keep themselves entertained. Sometimes, out of the blue, Allie would whistle a tune and Harry would have fifteen seconds to name it. Other times, Harry would list three words he associated with a person and Allie would have to guess who in New Ham he was thinking of. Then there were the old games, like 20 Questions and Would You Rather. By the end of it all, Allie felt like she knew more trivial details about Harry than she did about herself.

“You know,” he told her one day, “Lexie and I were pretty shit leaders.”

This was a delicate topic, one that the two of them frequently tried to tip-toe around, but since Harry was trying to open up to her, she figured she could set aside her anger and listen to him.

“Oh, yeah?”

“We didn’t really see eye-to-eye. Lexie hated all my ideas, but then she never had any ideas of her own, so we were just stuck. We needed you so badly. I tried to get us to privatize food and close the cafeteria maybe two weeks after you left. God, it was awful. I thought people might start shooting each other just to get the food they wanted. The whole time I tried to ask myself what you would do in my situation. Then I realized you wouldn’t have tried to close the cafeteria in the first place. That was the first time I really, really knew we were lost without you.”

She wasn’t sure how to feel about that comment. Part of her relished the fact that this society truly relied on her as a competent leader. Another part of her was bitter that despite all her efforts, she had landed in prison regardless.

So she simply said, “Thank you.” Nothing more. It wasn’t much, but at least she wasn’t ripping his head off, as she would have when he first joined her in jail. The more time passed and the better she came to know him, the more her resentment towards him began to dissipate.

She was becoming more comfortable with him. When she looked at him, she was no longer reminded of his burning hatred of Cassandra or his old connections to his family’s money. She simply saw him as Harry.

They were not exactly happy, but they had each other. And most days, that was enough.

Over time, he told her about his father’s death and how it essentially destroyed him. She told him about what it was like to grow up in her sister’s shadow, always being seen as second best. They had known each other since kindergarten, but oftentimes, it felt like they were talking for the first time.

“Would you rather eat poisoned pumpkin pie or have to work twenty consecutive garbage cleanup shifts?” Allie asked during one of their games.

“Eat poisoned pie,” he said with a playful smirk. “Because at least it’d be over quickly.”

She burst into laughter. “You’re only saying that because you’ve never tried it before,” she said in between giggles.

When she finally collected herself, she saw him gazing at her through his long lashes.

“What’s that look?” she teased.

“Nothing.” Harry quickly replied.

“Oh, come on. Don’t lie to me. What is it?”

His lips curled up at the corners a little bit. He was embarrassed. “Nothing. You just have a really beautiful laugh.”

Whatever she had expected him to say, it wasn’t that. “No, I don’t. You’re just saying that.”

“It’s true.” He was still watching her intently. It was the same look he’d had in his eyes when they’d joked around before his cafeteria shift so long ago. “You know, I always noticed you in high school. I just never thought you wanted to talk to me. I was convinced you hated me.”

“Why would you think that?” When he didn’t respond, she immediately pieced together the answer. “Because of Cassandra? You thought I wouldn’t like you because you guys hated each other? I’m not my sister.”

“I know that. But things were different back then. I remember when we took chemistry class together. You were so smart and so confident. You always seemed so unreachable.”

She scoffed. “Smart and confident? Are you talking about me, or my sister? You know that’s not true.”

“I don’t know who told you otherwise, but you’ve always been smart and confident.” He was grinning now.

“You were the one who was untouchable, not me.” Allie insisted.

“Are you saying you noticed me, too?”

“Of course I noticed you. Honestly, Harry, who didn’t? Everyone wanted to be you. You had a gorgeous girlfriend, a gigantic mansion, a bright future. It seemed like you were worlds away from me. Who would have guessed that we would be where we are right now? That we would be friends? This new world we’re in is fucked up in a lot of ways, but if there’s one thing I’m grateful for, it’s that I’ve gotten to know you.”

They had gone from acquaintances to enemies to friends in only a few months. When she stopped to process how much they had changed, it astounded her.

“You remember prom, right?”

“How could I forget?”

“Oh. Sorry. I wasn’t referring to that.” Harry ran a hand through his hair, clearly flustered by his fumble. “Sorry. I, um, I didn’t mean to bring back those memories. I was thinking of the part before that, when everyone was enjoying the night. I asked you to dance, and you said no.”

“I remember. I said I thought it would complicate things too much.”

“Well, that was me noticing you.”

It felt like something had changed in the air around them. Their conversation lost its playful quality and had shifted in to something much more delicate and serious.

“I thought you only did that because Kelly was with Will.”

“I admit that that was part of it. But there was also a part of me that really wanted to get to know you. And after everything that happened with Fugitive, I thought—” Harry cut himself off. “Nevermind. It doesn’t matter what I thought. What’s important is that we’re friends now.”

The energy between them had turned electric. What would happen if Allie pressed him to say the things he was going to say before he cut himself off? If all the unspoken words between them were said aloud?

It was a risk she couldn’t take. “You’re right. Actually, speaking of prom, that brings me to another question. Would you rather never get to go to another party again or get to go to all the parties you want, but with Campbell as your date?”

He chuckled, and the tension in the room evaporated. But Allie knew it was only a matter of time before they would have to face the unsaid truth that was lingering between them.

Roughly a week or two later, after a particularly unpleasant lunch of undercooked hamburgers, Allie fell ill. With the exception of the poisoning incident, she had been lucky enough not to get sick in New Ham yet. But it seemed her luck was up.

Her stomach rolled. The office seemed bright and hazy through her eyes. She could feel bile rising up her throat, threatening to spill out of her at any moment. Out of desperation, she pounded on the door viciously. She prayed that whoever was on Guard would answer her. If she were lucky, the person on watch would be someone like Luke, who would have enough sympathy to aid her.

To her joy, the door swung open. But it was not Luke who answered. No, it was Clark. Other than Campbell, he was probably the single worst person who could have answered the door.

“Clark,” Allie gasped as she felt her stomach turn. “I’m pretty sure I have food poisoning and I think I’m going to throw up. I need to go to the bathroom.”

Clark snickered. He was clad in his letterman as usual, the red and yellow jacket that had transformed into a symbol of the Guard’s tight grip over New Ham. “And why the fuck should I care?”

Allie heaved. She couldn’t get sick. Not here, trapped in this room with Harry. The Guard were such cruel jailers that they would likely wait a week before cleaning up the vomit.

Harry watched her with wide, horror-struck eyes. “Look at her. She’s going to be sick. You need to do something.”

Clark smirked. “You get bathroom breaks two times a day, and it’s not time for your second break yet. So I guess you’re just going to have to wait it out. Sucks for you.”

Harry rose to his feet. Angry lightning flashed in his eyes. “Son of a bitch. You’ve already jailed us. Our lives are miserable because of you. The least you could do is help her. And you will, or so help me God, I will make sure you pay.”

She knew Clark sensed the threat in Harry’s words. Allie wanted to scream at her friend to stand down. She knew from experience that Clark had no qualms about abusing his power.

“You know,” Clark began to advance to on Harry, his hands clenched into fists. “I never really liked you in high school. I tolerated you at best. You used to walk around like you were king, but I knew you were nothing. You were just a boy with a lot of money who thought he could order us around because everything had been handed to him.”

“Clark,” Allie breathed out in a raspy voice. She could feel the vomit creeping up. “He didn’t mean anything by it. Please, just help me.”

He ignored her. “Harry Bingham, the fucking crown jewel of Connecticut. You’re not king anymore. And there’s no one who will save you when I make you scream.”

Clark threw the first punch. Harry did his best to defend himself, but he couldn’t compare to the football player’s brute strength. Clark, drunk on power, beat Harry until he was nearly unconscious. Allie screamed and cried for mercy. When Clark finally released him, his face was dripping in blood and purple bruises were blooming on his skin. Nauseated by the sight, she could no longer contain her vomit. She hurled in the trash bin.

“Maybe that will teach you a thing or two about respecting your Guard,” Clark sneered. He walked out of the room and slammed the door behind him. 

Although the nausea dissipated as soon as she threw up, she didn’t feel better until the evening bathroom break. She was granted the privilege to wash the trash bin out in the sink, which was a relief to her. She brushed her teeth and washed the bin as vigorously as she could. She was desperate to recapture some feeling of cleanliness.

That night, after the lights were turned off, she sat next to him in the darkness and rested her head on his shoulder. He was as tired as she’d ever seen him before.

“You didn’t have to do that for me,” she whispered. She was so exhausted from the day that her bones felt as hollow as those of a bird. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes. She listened to the calming rhythm of his breathing—in, out, in, out—and wondered if he regretted helping her.

Finally, he spoke. “Yes, I did.”

He shifted so that her head was no longer on his shoulder. Now, he was facing her, looking her eye to eye in the darkness. He had a brand new cut slicing through his left eyebrow. Somehow, it only made him more attractive.

“I had to do it,” he continued in a soft voice. He was so close that she could feel his breath dancing across her cheek when he exhaled. “I had to, because…”

He kissed her.

It was nothing like the last time he’d kissed her. Before, when they’d been high off the adrenaline of Fugitive, their kisses had been rough, demanding. This time, his lips were soft and gentle on hers. He wasn’t taking; he was asking.

They were not the children they had once been. They’d been hardened by the society they’d created, the horrors they’d seen, and the crimes they’d committed. But they could at least find shelter in this gentle, peaceful moment with each other.

Slowly, Allie pulled away from him. Their foreheads were still touching, as if they were both afraid to break their connection. The kisses had been so delicate, but she felt lightheaded and vulnerable.

She drank him in. He was so beautiful, so broken. The fresh bruises on his face gleamed in the darkness. His dark brown eyes shone in the moonlight, betraying his vulnerabilities even as he tried to steel himself.

“Harry,” she said.

She could see that he thought she was going to reject him. He looked prepared to pull away from her. “It’s okay, you don’t need to say anything. I wasn’t thinking straight. I’m sorry.”

“Shut up,” she murmured. “I do need to say something. I do, because…”

She leaned forward and kissed him gently, just as he had done with her.

“Because you didn’t need to fight for me, but you did anyways,” she continued, mumbling against his lips. “You’re the only reason I haven’t gone fucking insane in this room. And I owe you everything for that.”

She brought her lips to his again. This time, the softness was lost, replaced by a biting sense of urgency. She needed him now. She didn’t care if the person on the night shift overheard the quiet noises they were making. This moment was for them, and them alone.

After that night, it was as if something had snapped in each of them. All the moments spent in isolation with each other had led to this: something that was not quite friendship, not quite love, but beautiful all the same.

And that took them to where they were now: two not-quite-friends-not-quite-lovers, devouring instant noodles as if they were ambrosia, enduring each day as best as they could. The winter sun was setting on them, marking the close of another slow, trying day.

A flash of white caught her eye. Glistening snowflakes fluttered outside their window, bright against the dark night sky.

“Harry,” she whispered, awestruck.

“What?” He asked through a mouthful of noodles.

“I think it’s snowing.”

Harry dropped his plastic fork and looked to the window.

“Holy shit.” Wonder was in his voice. “I think you’re right.”

Their first snow in New Ham. It was beautiful. For a second, she allowed herself to imagine a different world, one in which she and Harry embraced the snow outdoors together. She imagined the bite of the cold on her fingertips and the taste of the crystalline snowflakes on her tongue. She pictured throwing a snowball at Harry when he wasn’t looking. She could almost see the startled look on his face. He would throw a snowball back at her, and then…

But that was not her world.

She did not know what was to come. Whether or not they would live to see spring. But for now, at least, she could take solace in the beauty of the snowflakes twirling outside her window.

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the prompt "first snow." (Which, as everyone can see, didn't come in play until the very end. Oops.)  
> Send in requests to my tumblr: societybabylon.


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